


Eleventh Hour Reprieve

by sephirothflame



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha Gladiolus, Alpha Ignis, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Knotting, M/M, OT4, Omega Noctis, PWP, Rimming, Spitroasting, World of Ruin, omega Prompto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 07:23:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9425480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sephirothflame/pseuds/sephirothflame
Summary: It's been ten years, but Noctis hasn't aged a day. His mates have definitely noticed and they've missed him.





	1. The Porn

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/841.html?thread=230473#cmt230473) prompt over on the KM. I really need to stop doing fills.
> 
> Uh, this does reference Luna/Noct because they are engaged and I do ship it. This _is_ canon compliant, as far as the ending goes. Prompto has insecurities and anxieties spawned from the situations in his life. Gladiolus acts like an asshole Alpha to confront the fact feelings are hard. Ignis is Noctis' rock, as always because I'm IgNoct trash even during foursomes.
> 
> You can **skip the second chapter if you want a happy ending**. It's literally just me wrapping up my train of thought and maybe making way for the sequel I kind of already have planned in my head because I'm trash.

Ten years.  
  
It’s been ten years since Noctis became one with the crystal but it feels like he’s only been gone for a fraction of it. A few heartbeats, maybe, if he’s honest. Looking in the sideview mirror of Talcott’s truck, it doesn’t seem like a day has passed but here’s Talcott, at least as old as Noctis’ feels.  
  
Rubbing a hand over his face, Noctis sighs and rests his head against the cool window. He’s not going to ask how Talcott knew where to find him. He’s not going to ask how many daemons there are, stretching as far as the eye can see. How long has it been since anyone has seen the sun and how is anything even still growing to sustain them. There are a million questions inside of him and he doesn’t want to know the answers to any of them.  
  
There is a warm feeling in Noctis’ gut, one he hasn’t felt in a long time, and he tries to will it away.  
  
It’s a long, quiet drive to Hammerhead.  
  


\- - - - -

  
  
Prompto throws himself at Noctis the moment they’re away from prying eyes and inside the caravan. His embrace is too tight, his too sharp nails digging into the back of Noctis’ neck. His breathing is ragged and his scent is - not wrong, per se, but flat. Like sleep warm skin and bitter sweat from fighting and something that is undeniably _Prompto_. Warm days in the garden and standing too close in arcades at night and sharing sweet concoctions and even sweeter kisses. Yet something is missing.  
  
Hesitantly, Noctis returns the embrace. Prompto feels so thin under his battered vest and top, but for more solid than Noctis remembers. Like he lost all his baby fat when he decided to grow out the strange little scruff on his chin.  
  
“Let the man breathe,” Gladiolus eventually says. He claps Noctis on the back, rougher than he needs to, and ruffles his hair gently. “Look at your dumb baby face. You’re still a goddamn twink.”  
  
“So nothing has changed, then?” Ignis asks, quietly. His fingers skim the walls as he makes his way to the small bench, and Noctis’ heart aches to see him. This is his fault. All of this is his fault.  
  
“Not a damn thing,” Gladiolus says and he almost sounds reverent.  
  
“You even still smell like you,” Prompto mumbles into Noctis’ neck. He inhales deeply but his breaths are still shaking and _oh_ , Noctis thinks, because Prompto is actually crying. His grip tightens.  
  
Noctis rubs a hand along Prompto’s spine, gently petting, and nuzzles their temples together. “I’m glad you’re okay. I was so worried about you. Ardyn...”  
  
“How do you think we felt?” Gladiolus asks, and Prompto hiccups a laugh through his tears. “We didn’t know if you were ever going to come back.”  
  
“Don’t be an ass,” Prompto says. He pulls away from Noctis just far enough to glower at Gladiolus. “It wasn’t his fault.”  
  
“Now would be a good time to consider heading to bed,” Ignis suggests. “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”  
  
“Just like that, then?” Gladiolus asks. His expression is neutral but he touches the small of Noctis’ back possessively. It sends shivers down his spine and makes his knees week. “We just got him _back_.”  
  
“I never said anything about sleeping,” Ignis says.  
  
Noctis’ face flushes. He doesn’t remember Ignis being quite this forward before, but maybe the stress of time apart has affected them in more ways than one. He should feel used but Noctis aches for them in ways he can’t begin to explain.  
  
“Um, can I just - “ He hasn’t been clean in over ten years, can still feel the ichor from the MTs and daemons making his clothes stiff and he’s pretty sure some of this blood isn’t even his own. He’s _gross_ now that he thinks about it, but Prompto doesn’t seem to mind if his tight embrace is any indicator.  
  
“Oh,” Ignis says. He sounds more like the Ignis Noctis knows, startled by his own lack of consideration. “The water doesn’t get hot, but lukewarm should be fine if you keep it under a few minutes…”  
  
“We weren’t going to say anything,” Gladiolus says. He squeezes Noctis’ shoulders gently and nudges him towards the cramped bathroom. “Go on, princess.”  
  
Prompto doesn’t want to let go, but he eventually does. His lower lip trembles and his eyes are glassy. His gaze drops to Noctis’ lips, like he wants, but he’s not willing to erase the space between them and kiss him himself.  
  
Noctis closes it for him, a quick peck to chapped lips before he’s stepping away and closing the door behind him. His heart is thudding in his chest and he had no idea what the hell he was expecting to happen, but this certainly wasn’t it.  
  
Something is off between Prompto and Gladiolus and Ignis, but Noctis isn’t sure _what_. He knows what Talcott said about them, that they hadn’t been sticking together, hadn’t been hunting together. Had they been together at all?  
  
Had Ignis and Gladiolus left Prompto to sweat out his Heats all alone, or had he found someone else to take care of him through them? Ignis and Gladiolus’ Ruts can’t have been much better, whether apart or desperately clawing at each other to be dominant instead of rocking into Prompto’s sweet, submissive body? Could Prompto even handle the both of them at once?  
  
And that is what is precisely wrong with Prompto’s scent just now, is he didn’t smell like Ignis _or_ Gladiolus. How long has it been since either of them had been inside of him? Was Noctis the only one holding the four of them together?  
  
He feels sick just thinking about it.  
  
Shaking, Noctis strips off his teeshirt and kicks off his boots and waits for the shower to reach the lukewarm temperature Ignis promised. It never does, but Noctis steps under the spray anyways.  
  


\- - - - -

  
  
“ _All I’m saying is you can’t just force him to have sex with you just because you haven’t seen him in ten years_ ,” Prompto argues hotly through the bathroom door. “ _Maybe he’s exhausted. We’ve barely even gotten the story out of him and both of you immediately want to take him to bed? Assholes!_ ”  
  
“ _Just because you dried up the moment he went missing -_ ,” Gladiolus starts.  
  
“ _Prompto was kidnapped and tortured and lost one of his mates_ ,” Ignis interjects. “ _You can’t blame him if his emotions and hormones are out of whack._ ”  
  
“ _And what the hell is with your weird Devil’s Advocate kick lately_?” Gladiolus snaps. “ _Like you weren’t just as hot for him the moment he stepped out of that truck. The whole damn camp can smell how eager you are._ ”  
  
Noctis is pretty sure the rest of this conversation is going to end in bloodshed at this rate, so he wraps a too thin terrycloth towel around his waist and pushes open the bathroom door. “Stop.”  
  
Gladiolus sucks in a sharp breath and Prompto looks at Noctis with wide eyes. Even Ignis tips his head slightly, a sign of recognition that Noctis spoke than anything else, probably. He should feel naked, standing in front of them like this, but he just feels frustrated.  
  
“Astrals, look at you,” Gladiolus says, his voice low and husky. “I feel like a goddamn pervert.”  
  
Noctis refuses to squirm. He doesn’t want to stand with his hands on his hips, but he doesn’t know what else he can do besides cross them over his chest and that makes him feel even more insecure. He’s _nineteen_ and he feels every minute of it.  
  
“It’s my body,” Noctis says, finally. “Cartarnica was the last time anyone touched it.”  
  
He remembers the train ride, begging to ride Ignis desperately because Gladiolus wouldn’t even look at him, let alone fuck him and he had needs. Prompto could barely even roll over on his cot after Gladiolus had finished with him and Noctis can still feel the white hot jealousy in his gut. It feels like weeks ago.  
  
“Cape Caem was the last time you all even wanted me,” Noctis continues. His palms are sweaty and he balls his hands into fists.  
  
Knowing this was the last time they were going to get to be together. Once they left for Altissia Lunafreya and Noctis would be reunited and what they had going had to _stop_. Noctis was going to be married and he would never be able to give his beautiful beta wife any children but they were going to be _happy_. But Noctis and Ignis and Prompto and Gladiolus still had that last night, two beds pushed together and Noctis being smothered between the three of them in a desperate attempt to claim him once last time.  
  
“Bro, no,” Prompto says, and he sounds wrecked. “I - _we_ \- always wanted you.”  
  
“You’re a goddamn idiot,” Gladiolus says. His grip is tight and he pulls Noctis in surprisingly fast for such a large man. His embrace is smothering, but familiar thick fingers run through his hair before tugging gently and forcing Noctis to look up. “I was _mad_ at everything, not just you.”  
  
Noctis trembles and there is nothing he can say or do to deny it. He fists the front of Gladiolus’ tanktop and his breath shakes. This must have been how Prompto was feeling earlier. Confused and desperate and so fucking alone it hurt. “You wouldn’t even _look_ at me.” Noctis says wetly, tears prickling the back of his eyes.  
  
“Do not believe that he did not regret treating you the way he did,” Ignis says softly. He moves closer and brushes a soft kiss to the crown of Noctis’ head, a familiar gesture that makes Noctis’ heart flutter. “We have no intention of taking away your agency. If you do not wish to be intimate, that is entirely your call and we will respect your decision.”  
  
It feels safe and warm, pressed tight between his two alphas. The start of the road trip was the first time he was allowed to have both of them and Prompto whenever he wanted. He’d always had to settle for drunken shenanigans before, the four of them getting barely enough time together to make it worth it. Noctis knows he was selfish in his intentions and desires, but Prompto never complained.  
  
“How long has it been?” Noctis asks. “How many times have you three been together without me?”  
  
“It was my fault!” Prompto says.  
  
Ignis reaches for him, hand sliding up his shoulder to the back of his neck, before tugging him in close as well. He presses a kiss to Prompto’s temple. “It was not your fault. Gladio didn’t mean that.”  
  
“My brain’s all fucked up now, Noct,” Prompto mumbles against his shoulder. “I haven’t had a heat in four years? I haven’t gotten slick in even longer…”  
  
“Prompto,” Noctis says. He can’t wrap an arm around him, not like this, but he can squeeze his fingers around Prompto’s wrist. “Do you remember the time you soaked through the couch cushion and my apartment reeked for days?”  
  
Prompto makes a horrified sound, but Ignis laughs between them. “That was quite a mess to clean up,” Ignis says, amused. “And then you tried to _lie_ about it, like I wouldn’t recognize your scent over anyone else’s.”  
  
“I was trying to forget about that,” Prompto says, but he’s grinning. “I was thirsting for Gladio so hardcore and you had that _toy_...”  
  
“Now this is definitely a story I’m interested in hearing later,” Gladiolus says. He ruffles Prompto’s hair and sighs heavily. The room sombers. “To answer your first question… not as often as you’d like to hear. Wasn’t the same without you. Prompto didn’t want to be touched if he wasn’t in Heat, Ignis didn’t want to submit to anyone, and I was - still am, if I’m honest - an asshole about the entire situation.”  
  
“It’s been at least five years for the three of us,” Ignis muses. “It was more of a coincidence than anything that we were altogether at the same place. Though, Prompto and I have been together since then.”  
  
“That haven outside Balouve Mines,” Gladiolus says. “I remember that. That cannot be consecrated holy grounds anymore after the shit that went down there.”  
  
“You bit my ass!” Prompto says, indigent, though his cheeks are flushed and he doesn’t sound too put out by it. He certainly doesn’t smell opposed to the idea. “I think I have a _scar_.”  
  
Gladiolus smacks Prompto’s ass and he yelps in response, his body jarring in closer to Noctis’ and his skin flushing brighter. “You like it, puppy.”  
  
“You’re such an asshole,” Prompto says hotly.  
  
Noctis knows that there is a good chance that these next few days will be his last. If all goes according to plan, if they move quick enough, they may only have two or three more days together. But he’s selfish and he wants and he needs to know his mates will be okay without them. He doesn’t want to leave behind a world where Ignis and Gladiolus and Prompto haven’t fucked in over five years. Noctis can’t be the glue that holds them together when it’s obvious how desperately they all need each other.  
  
He doesn’t deserve his mates. Noctis is far too selfish for them.  
  
Sucking in a sharp breath, Noctis presses up onto his toes to press a chaste kiss to Gladiolus’ mouth. He backs away before the kiss can be deepened and Gladiolus growls, tightening his grip on Noctis’ waist. He kisses Ignis in kind, who sighs softly against his lips, and Prompto who whimpers and presses into him eagerly.  
  
“So I’m pretty sure you guys were planning on some kind of gangbang?” Noctis asks.

They move to the bedroom, if it can be called that in the cramped caravan, and Noctis kisses Prompto first, because he always starts with Prompto. It’s warm and familiar, pressing himself up against the blond, and Prompto sighs softly against his lips. It’s good.  
  
Increasingly aware of his own state of undress, Noctis slips his fingers under the hem of Prompto’s shirt but he can’t bring himself to tug it off. Not yet. He wants to savor this. The way Prompto’s stomach clenches at the first touch and the warm feeling of his skin under Noctis’ palms. The rough scratch of his facial hair against Noctis’ chin and the breathless little sound Prompto makes when Noctis nips on his lower lip before parting his own and silently begging his best friend for more.  
  
“Astrals, I’ve missed this,” Gladiolus says, dropping down heavily onto one of the cots. “Iggy, you have no idea…”  
  
“I have _some_ ,” Ignis says, though he sounds more amused than exasperated. “I have seen it before.”  
  
And _oh_ Noctis thinks, because how can he have forgotten? His face flushes and he feels so fucking guilty. Prompto and Noctis have put on this show for Gladiolus and Ignis so many times in the past but Ignis can’t enjoy it like he used to.  
  
“Your lips are so fucking soft,” Prompto moans softly. His hands touch Noctis’ biceps, hesitantly almost, before curling one around the back of his neck. The other traces down Noctis’ spine slowly, to his hip, and urges him closer. Chest to chest, hip to hip.  
  
Noctis could feel Prompto starting to swell between the layers between them and he’s not sure it’s possible for his face to get any warmer.  
  
“He blushes just as pretty as he used to,” Gladiolus murmurs. His fingers find Ignis’ wrist and he tugs gently, guiding him to the spot on the cot next to him. His hand settles on Ignis’ thigh, squeezing gently. “Remember that haven in the Vesperpool? The damn spores?”  
  
“Full body flush,” Ignis says, his breath hitching. “I remember.”  
  
“He’s still got all his baby fat,” Gladiolus says. “Barely any hair in his happy trail and his soft little stomach. Bet his thighs are just as smooth, too…”  
  
“I’ve got muscles - “ Noctis says, nearly biting Prompto’s tongue. It’s an age old argument, one they’ve been having for _years_ now. He wants to be indignant, but Prompto tips his face and kisses him again.  
  
“Ignore them,” Prompto says. His eyes flicker between Gladiolus and Ignis, before settling back on Noctis and he _gets it_. He’s not being a tease or an ass, not on purpose. Prompto presses close, rubbing his nose along Noctis’ in a sweet Eskimo kiss, before grinning. “Wanna fuck?”  
  
Noctis laughs. He shouldn’t be startled by Prompto’s unexpected honesty but he is. It’s not the same, never will be, but his lighthearted tone and his beautiful grin remind Noctis of before. Before everything. He kisses Prompto again. “Sure.” He hesitates.  
  
As if understanding his hesitancy, Prompto shrugs. “Iggy always has lube for me. He’s very considerate.”  
  
“Ah,” Ignis says. “My bag. Gladio?”  
  
“Don’t get naked until I get back,” Gladiolus says. He slaps Prompto’s ass as he squeezes past them to the front room of the caravan, searching for Ignis’ bag. “Which bottle you want?”  
  
“Bring them both,” Ignis says.  
  
“Now I’m interested,” Prompto says. He squirms in Noctis’ grip to see the bottles, but they’re near impossible to see in Gladiolus’ large fist. “Normally it’s just the numbing stuff, but that shits been getting harder and harder to come by…”  
  
“Unfortunately a sign of the times,” Gladiolus says. He hands Noctis a bottle with a picture of an ulwat berry on it. His lips brush the shell of Noctis’ ear, his voice barely a whisper. “Make him sloppy.”  
  
Licking his lips, Noctis reaches for Prompto’s vest. It slides off his shoulders easily, and Prompto kicks it under the cot and out of the way. He lets Noctis pull off his tanktop, though drags him in for a kiss as soon as it’s discarded. It’s warm and electric and Noctis can feel his heart jackhammering in his chest.  
  
Prompto’s gloves and bandana are next, though Noctis leaves his bracelets and cuff alone. He’s never seen Prompto with bare wrists and he’s not sure if that’s a thing that’s changed in the last ten years or not. Noctis doesn’t want to push it.  
  
He brings Prompto’s arm up, fingers tangled together, and kisses him through the leather cuff. _It’s okay_ he means and _I love you_ and _you’re not one of them, you’re not a monster_. He hopes Prompto understands.  
  
Dropping his towel, Noctis ignores the sharp intakes of break from his lovers, and uses it to brace his knees when he falls to the ground. He unlaces Prompto’s boots slowly, one at a time, before pulling them off and discarding them out of the way. It should feel weird, submitting himself to another Omega, but it never has with Prompto. He’s not ashamed to reach for Prompto’s belt and pull it from the loops, or the hungry way he tugs the buttons loose and drags Prompto’s skinny jeans down his too thin hips.  
  
Prompto is so pale now, dark freckles on his hips a start contrast to the coarse blonde hair on his belly and thighs. His fingers card through Noctis’ hair gently, slowly, his thumbs sweeping in gentle arches across his cheekbones. “Noctis,” he breathes.  
  
Noctis swallows. He kisses Prompto’s hip, before nuzzling his cheek against it and sighing softly. His scent is so thick, so familiar, and Noctis could happily get lost in it forever. This is his best friend, his bond mate, and he’s _safe_. His breath shudders. “Lay down,” Noctis says. “Spread your legs.”  
  
If Prompto has any doubts, he doesn’t let them show. He lays back on the second cot, thighs spread wide, hands resting on his belly. He bares himself for Noctis without hesitation, like there isn’t ten whole years between them now. “I like when you get bossy,” he says, sighing contently.  
  
He lubes up his fingers but he starts with his tongue.  
  
The first brush against Prompto’s entrance has his thighs clenching tight and his back arching off the bed. “Fuck,” Prompto gasps, fingers gripping the covers beneath him. “Sorry, it’s just, been a long time…”  
  
“You’re fine,” Noctis murmurs. He pets Prompto’s belly with his clean hand, soothing circles that pointedly ignore his flushed cock. “Shh.”  
  
Prompto doesn’t exactly relax, but he doesn’t lurch as hard the second time Noctis brings his tongue to him. He teases his tongue along the rim of the muscle before flattening his tongue and getting the entire thing wet with spit. He doesn’t normally do this, but he hopes the wet noises are enough for Ignis.  
  
“He’s so fucking beautiful,” Gladiolus murmurs in Ignis’ ear, barely loud enough for Noctis to hear. “On his knees like a whore, getting Prompto nice and wet…”  
  
Face flushed, Noctis trembles. He spears his tongue and tries to press it past the slick rim of muscle. It’s not enough, not yet, but a lubed up finger breaches Prompto easily enough. It’s almost sickeningly sweet to smell and taste but Prompto moans so sweetly at the insertion. Noctis will stay down here as long as he has to if it means Prompto will keep making those sounds.  
  
Noctis fucks him slowly with the single finger, past the first two knuckles and all the way to his fist. He keeps licking, determined to keep him wet and wanting, tracing around his finger before slowly added a second. It’s a familiar process, even if the slick is artificial. His fingers glide easily enough, his tongue pressing hotly as deeply as he can get it. He knows Prompto can come just from a tongue in his ass, has seen Ignis do it to him as punishment, but that’s not what Noctis wants tonight.  
  
“More,” Prompto says breathlessly, his hips rocking up for more. He’s gripping the sheets with one hand and twisting and tugging his nipple with the other. “I can take it Noct, I want it. Please.” His cock is leaking against his stomach and his hole is pulsing and it’s not quite right but it’s perfect in it’s own way.  
  
Noctis nips at the smooth skin of Prompto’s thigh and pushes a third finger inside of him. He should go for four, he knows he should, but the desperate clench around his fingers is making him ache in a way he selfishly doesn’t want to ignore. He fucks him slowly, twisting his wrist until he can drag the pads of his fingers against Prompto’s prostate and the gunner all but yelps.  
  
Ignis curses softly and Noctis takes that as a sign to continue.  
  
Pulling out his fingers, Noctis slaps a sticky hand to Prompto’s thigh. “Scoot up,” he says, and Prompto whines as he obeys. He stays on his back, thighs spread wide, because Noctis isn’t Ignis or Gladiolus. It doesn’t _do_ anything for him for Prompto to present himself, not in the same way it does to their Alphas. He slides his hands up Prompto’s thighs, licks a line up his throbbing cock and kisses his way up his belly. Nuzzling Prompto’s throat, Noctis sighs heavily. Contently.  
  
“Your scruff is weird,” Noctis murmurs, but he kind of likes the scratch against his face. He would have liked to felt it between his thighs. His breath hitches.  
  
“And you still look like a kitten,” Prompto says. He catches Noctis’ face in his hands, the callouses from his trigger fingers rough against the smooth skin of Noctis’ cheeks. His thumbs stroke gently and they kiss softly. “I’d feel like I was going to hell if I wasn’t younger than you, once.”  
  
“‘M not a kitten,” Noctis murmurs between kisses. He is their kitten and Prompto is their puppy but that doesn’t mean Noctis can’t object to the pet names at every chance he gets. They would probably worry if he didn’t.  
  
“We never did get you the jingle bell collar,” Gladiolus says, wistfully. “Bet it would still look pretty on you. Pink for the princess.”  
  
“Black for the king,” Ignis corrects. “With a soft fur lining, I think.”  
  
Noctis doesn’t know what to add that won’t sound petulant, so he pools more of the ulwat berry lube into his palm and slicks up his cock. He hitches Prompto’s thigh up, giving Gladiolus a better view, before pushing in slowly. He should have asked, knows it’s unexpected, but Prompto arches his back and moans so sweetly as he’s being filled.  
  
Prompto grabs Noctis’ bicep and tangles fingers in his hair. He looks at Noctis’ through hall lidded eyes with parted lips and he’s so fucking beautiful it hurts. Noctis rubs his thumb along Prompto’s lower lip before moving to rub the creases at the edge of his eyes. This close, it’s more obvious the time that’s between them.  
  
Idly, Noctis wonders how weird it is for Prompto to be fucked by someone who looks ten years his junior.  
  
“It’s okay,” Prompto says. He rolls his hips up, the action so familiar it makes Noctis’ heart ache. He wants and he’s unashamed and for all the little things that have changed about him he’s still _Prompto_. He’s always going to be Prompto.  
  
Noctis pulls out and pushes back into him slowly. His grip tightens on Prompto’s thigh, knees digging into the mattress and he thrusts in again, slow and deep. He loses himself in the shuddered breaths and the way Prompto’s nails dig into the back of his neck, marking him. He’s tight and hot and just barely slick enough but he’s perfect. So fucking perfect.  
  
It’s easy to lose himself in the slick slide inside of Prompto’s body, the tight clenching drawing him in deeper with every thrust. They share kisses, wet and open mouthed, moaning each other’s names in between breaths and Prompto’s quiet pleads for _more, please, more_. It feels like it’s been months since Noctis has been allowed to do this, to lose himself in his mate and put on a show for the others and Noctis never wants it to end.  
  
Prompto reaches for his cock, eventually. He whines in the back of his throat, a tight, keening noise. He brings himself off in time with Noctis’ thrusts and he cries out with every sharp nudge against his prostate. “Noct, please - “  
  
Biting, down on Prompto’s throat, Prompto comes with a desperate sound. His entire body seizes up, back bowing and pressing closer to Noctis, and Noctis can’t help but come deep inside of him as well. He should be embarrassed, maybe, but it has been ten years.  
  
“Fuck that’s hot,” Gladiolus says. He’s got a fist around his cock and Noctis was so absorbed in Prompto he completely forget about the alphas they were putting the show on for in the first place. “Such a sloppy mess…”  
  
Noctis can feel Prompto clench around him, and it’s too much too soon, but it’s not from arousal. His thighs are dry except for sticky fingerprints when ten years ago he would have soaked through the cot without Noctis’ help. His definition of _sloppy_ is skewed. Noctis pulls out slowly and kisses Prompto softly.  
  
“It’s okay,” Noctis murmurs. “You’re perfect.” He means it.  
  
Prompto smiles and pulls away from Noctis, sitting up on the bed and facing the Alphas in the room. “So, uh, now that you’re both significantly warmed up, I suppose you both want Noctis…”  
  
The way he says it, like Gladiolus and Ignis have no desire to be with Prompto right now, makes Noctis’ chest aches. He moves into Prompto’s space, bumping shoulders with him, and glowers across the room. He hopes it makes it very clear they’re not allowed to ignore Prompto in this situation.  
  
“Quit pouting, princess, no one is going to be left out,” Gladiolus says. His fist is wrapped around his cock, pearly fluid leaking from the tip and Noctis wants to choke on it so badly he aches for it. The warmth in his belly tightens and he can feel the tell tale sign of slick even before it leaks down his thighs.  
  
Ignis is the only person in the room who looks remotely composed. Almost impossibly, the sight of him tenting his slacks but otherwise undisturbed turns Noctis on even more. “As I recall, we have made it work before.”  
  
“So the question becomes, what do you want, Noct?” Gladiolus asks.  
  
Noctis has no idea what he wants. He wants to take both of them into his mouths, wants both of them to knot him and fill him with their seed. Wants to be pressed between their bodies and lost in the warm scent of _Alpha_ , his heart and home with these three men in this room. Noctis wants all of them and he wants them in all the ways and there isn’t enough time left in the universe for him to get everything he wants.  
  
Noctis is selfish. He should be ashamed.  
  
“Noct,” Prompto says, softly. He bumps his shoulder into Noctis’ before pressing a kiss to his naked, sweaty skin. “You okay? We don’t gotta do this. It’s never too late to tap out.”  
  
“It’s not that,” Noctis says. He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. He wipes his sweaty palms on his thighs and slips off of the bed and onto the floor. It hurts his knees a little and the carpet is scratchy but he doesn’t care. He touches Ignis’ knees, pushing them apart and sliding up his thighs as he makes space for himself between them.  
  
He presses his face against the smooth material of Ignis’ shirt, hiding against his lean stomach and inhaling deeply. He smells like the Archive at the Citadel and the spice market and _home_. He was Noctis’ first alpha, in a way. He’s been taking care of Noctis’ for as long as Noctis can remember, it feels like.  
  
Ignis runs his fingers through Noctis’ hair gently, gloves discarded. He sighs softly and continues to pet Noctis’ hair, acting for all the world like he isn’t bothered by his aching cock the sweet scent of Noctis’ slick filling the room. He always did have the most self-control out of all of them.  
  
“‘M gonna blow you,” Noctis says.

Laughing softly, Ignis traces his fingertips along Noctis’ jaw. “That sounds like a wonderful plan.” His fingers trace along Noctis’ features almost lazily, reacquainting himself, maybe. The hook of Noctis’ nose and the dip of his brow, the sharp cut of his cheekbones before resting on the bow of his lips. “You’re so beautiful.”  
  
Noctis can’t blush any more than he already is. He wants to shake his head but doesn’t want to dislodge Ignis’ gentle touch. His hands tremble as he undoes Ignis’ belt, popping the button and pulling down the zipper. The scent is thicker here, undeniably _Alpha_ and Noctis can feel himself actually leak slick. He should be embarrassed but he’s not.  
  
“Wait,” Ignis says, before they can get any further. He doesn’t stop running his fingers through Noctis’ hair. “As stunning as I’m sure it is for you to be on your knees, perhaps we should do this differently.”  
  
“Differently?” Noctis asks. His hand rests on Ignis’ cock, squeezing gently, and he relishes the soft groan he receives in return.  
  
“You won’t get any rest if we carry on one at a time,” Ignis says, quietly. “I don’t mean to rush you, but…”  
  
He lets his sentence hang, and Noctis’ heart aches. Leave it to Ignis to be concerned with the overall plan when they’re trying to be intimate. He’s right, of course, but Noctis had been hoping to savor each of his mates in their own time. He wants to make this last, wants this to be a good memory for them.  
  
“Iggy’s got a point,” Gladiolus says. He shrugs off his jacket and toes off his boots. “You going to get in on this, puppy?”  
  
“Obviously,” Prompto says. He nearly launches across the caravan to help Gladiolus undress and Noctis guesses it’s decided then.  
  
Instead of wrapping his lips around the head of Ignis’ cock, Noctis sighs and starts unlacing his shoes and tugging off his socks. Ignis doesn’t move to help him, but he knows Noctis like to do it for him. Likes to feel like he’s being a good little Omega for the Alpha who dotes on him at every other time. He eases Ignis’ slacks down his waist to the wet sounds of Gladio fingering Prompto, and he folds them before moving to the buttons of Ignis’ shirt.  
  
“Such a sweet thing,” Ignis murmurs, his cheek brushing against Noctis’ hair. “Always such a pretty, sweet kitten.”  
  
Noctis swallows around the lump in his throat and kisses Ignis as he pushes his shirt off his shoulders. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know if he can lie to Ignis of all people. He folds the shirt and sets it on top of Ignis’ slacks and says, “okay.”  
  
It takes some adjusting, but they all manage to fit on the small full sized bed. Ignis’ back against one wall, Gladiolus against the other. Prompto sits comfortably in Gladiolus’ lap, _just keeping me warm, princess_ he says, with a wink. Noctis sprawls himself between them, half draped in Ignis’ lap to wrap his lips around his cock _finally_.  
  
He’s leaking precome, bitter and thick, and Noctis laps it all up eagerly. It’s a familiar taste and weight against his tongue, comforting in it’s own way. Noctis’ teases Ignis’ foreskin with his tongue, dipping his tongue between the furled skin before gently soothing it back with his thumb. He traces the shape of the ridge with this tongue before taking the entire head in his mouth with a soft moan.  
  
Noctis’ isn’t expecting the cool fingers to press against his entrance. He has to pull off Ignis to keep from using his teeth, and he’s not surprised to see Prompto’s innocent grin. He curls his fingers, spreading them, before pulling them out and popping both in his mouth.  
  
“I could have bit him,” Noctis says, indignantly.  
  
“You wouldn’t have,” Gladiolus says, He tugs on Prompto’s wrist, popping his fingers from his mouth until he can mouth at the slick fingers himself. His eyes close and he growls. “Fuck, Iggy, he tastes so good. Even better than he smells.”  
  
Ignis runs his fingers through Noctis’ hair and smiles down at him. The light from the caravan is wan and his scars look worse than ever, but even with his scarred lip, his smile is gentle and Noctis melts into it. It’s just for him. “He always does.”  
  
“Such a sexy little thing,” Gladiolus says, and he lets Prompto’s hand go. He rubs the gunner’s belly and kisses the side of his neck. “He doesn’t even look old enough to be here right now, taking it from both ends.”  
  
“Pretty sure I was seventeen the first time I had your dick in my mouth,” Noctis says, rolling his eyes. He is prepared for Prompto’s fingers this time, pushing back onto them and moaning as they press deep.  
  
“Ignore him, Noctis,” Ignis says. He tightens his fingers in Noctis’ hair and gently guides Noctis’ head back into his lap. It’s the closest he’ll get to demanding Noctis do anything, but Noctis doesn’t mind. He’s more than happy to take Ignis’ cock into his mouth and get lost in the soft sounds Ignis makes as he’s blown. “Just like that, darling.”  
  
Noctis trembles at the praise. He licks a line from the base of Ignis’ cock and back up. Traces the pattern of the veins and wraps his fingers around Ignis’ heavy sac. It’s hard to focus when he’s being stretched but he wants to make this last, wants to make this feel good for Ignis. He wants to be a good Omega for the mates he left behind.  
  
Prompto pushes a third finger in as Noctis takes Ignis back into his mouth, but this time he doesn’t choke. He moans around Ignis and clenches around the fingers inside him. He swallows wetly, increasingly aware of how much he was drooling and how much slick was leaking out of him, but he doesn’t have it in him to be ashamed. Not right now. Not tonight.  
  
He lets the gentle pressure of Ignis’ hand on his skull guide him, encouraging a gentle bob. He sucks hard each time he pulls back, hollowing his cheeks and moaning. Noctis isn’t surprised to feel the gentle pressure on his cheek, of Ignis trying to feel himself through Noctis’. He curls his tongue to drag Ignis’ cock against the inside of his cheek, to feel the gentle scrape of Ignis’ nails against his scalp and his shuddering breath.  
  
“Enough, Prompto,” Gladiolus says quietly.  
  
There’s a slick sound as Prompto pulls his fingers out and a dull, empty ache that settles low in Noctis’ stomach. He clenches around nothing and he _wants_. He arches his spine and pushes back for more, but he’s unwilling to move off of Ignis’ cock to do anything about it. He wants and needs this, just like he wants and needs Gladiolus’ inside of him.  
  
The bed groans as the bodies on it shift. Prompto half crawls over Noctis, kissing his shoulder before dropping onto the bed at his side. Gladiolus makes room for himself between Noctis’ spread legs, tracing the head of his cock against Noctis’ rim. He should have made Prompto use another finger, should have asked for more prep, because it’s going to hurt for both of them but maybe it’s better this way.  
  
Noctis pulls off Ignis cock to kiss and lick the tip, his breath shaking. He curls his fingers around the base, stroking upward slowly, waiting. He can feel the thickness at the base, already starting to swell under Noctis’ touch. He clenches around nothing and whines.  
  
It feels like an eternity of teasing. Gladiolus just dragging his leaking cockhead around Noctis’ rim before breaching him slowly. It burns, despite the thick warmth of his own slick, and Noctis groans. It’s not enough, not nearly enough, and Noctis finds himself pushing back for more before he even knows he’s ready for it.  
  
Gladiolus’ hands are large on his narrow hips, squeezing and petting gently. His fingers trace soft, familiar circles and he eases himself inside of Noctis slowly before pulling out and rocking back in. Every inch of him burns and stretches Noctis so wonderfully. He can’t help the desperate panting that escapes him or the unconscious rocking of his hips.  
  
“You’re such a pretty little thing, so eager for it,” Gladiolus says. He traces his thumb around Noctis’ rim, not pushing in but exerting a gentle pressure as he continues to slide his cock deep. “Even your hole is desperate for it, princess. If you could see how desperate it was for my cock inside of you, how wet you were.”  
  
Noctis can feel the sweat dripping from his brow and the low throb of his cock between this thighs. He didn’t even realize he was hard again, but every slow drag of Gladiolus’ hips and his words were going straight to his groin. “Not a princess.”  
  
“Wasn’t your mouth occupied?” Gladiolus asks, slapping Noctis’ ass playfully. He thrusts harder this time, punching a moan out of Noctis. “There we go. Goddamn twink, moaning for it.”  
  
Ignis’ laughter is soft and he massages Noctis’ scalp gently. His cock oozes against Noctis’ cheek, throbbing in his hands, but he makes no demands. “You are a beautiful little thing, Noctis.”  
  
It’s unfair, the pet names and the praises coming from both sides. He can feel Prompto at his side, his hand sliding under Noctis’ belly to rub his chest and tweak his nipples before raking down his belly and curling his fingers around Noctis’ cock. It’s too much, too much all at once, but Noctis never wants it to end.  
  
Closing his eyes and fighting back the wetness, Noctis wraps his lips around Ignis’ cock and moans. He tries to lose himself in the gentle fist on his cock and the slow rocking into this throat and the sharp thrusts in his ass. It burns and aches and feels so amazing. If he could die in this moment, right now, this is how he would want to go. Surrounded by the warmth and scent of his mates, the last time time they’ll all get to be pressed together on a bed much to small for all of them.  
  
Ignis’ knot continues to swell, even before Noctis manages to brush his nose against the coarse hair at the base of his cock. It throbs, pulsing with his heartbeat, and Noctis massages it as best he can. It’s hard to set a tempo when Gladiolus is rocking into without one and Prompto is stroking slow and sweetly, dragging the callouses from his trigger finger in the way he knows drives Noctis wild. He wants Ignis to come, wants to choke on every last inch and drop of him.  
  
Gladiolus’ cock nudges Noctis’ prostate at just the right angle and he nearly chokes, Ignis’ cock nudging past the barrier of his throat and he swallows all the way down. He should be gagging, desperate for air, but he doesn’t. He sucks in desperately, drooling wetly along Ignis’ knot and it’s enough.  
  
“ _Noctis_ ,” is the only warning he gets before his hair is tugged hard, urging him off as Ignis’ cock throbs and he comes hard. His come is bitter, so unlike what Noctis’ is used to, but he refuses to pull off. He squeezes Ignis’ knot tightly and swallows desperately, eager for every drop.  
  
“Noctis,” Ignis says again, breathless and exasperated. He slumps against the wall, his fingers curling tightly in Noctis’ sweaty hair before attempting to smooth it down. “You did wonderfully.”  
  
“Fuck, Iggy,” Gladiolus says. “Look how much he melted after his first load…”  
  
As embarrassing as it is, Gladiolus is right. His throat is aching and he’s reluctant to let Ignis move out of his reach even though his cock is spent, but he’s given up on propping himself up in any way. He accepts the sweet kisses Prompto peppers against his face, squirming into Ignis’ space to do so. His fist is slack around Noctis’ cock, but he doesn’t stop.  
  
“Don’t tease,” Ignis says soothingly. “Fuck him like you mean it or let someone else do it.”  
  
Gladiolus scoffs and tugs Noctis’ hips back into his next thrust, causing them both to groan loudly. “We both know it will take you more than a few minutes to get it up again, Specs. We’re not as young as our sweet princess here.”  
  
Noctis groans at the nickname, but he doesn’t have it in him to do more than clench weakly around Gladiolus’ throbbing cock. He knows he’s close, can feel the stretch and burn of Gladiolus’ knot bumping and pulling at his rim. Noctis doesn’t think it will take much for him to come again, either.  
  
“You’re still a bunch of assholes,” Noctis says weakly.  
  
“Yeah,” Prompto says, almost dreamily. “But you love us.” He presses his next kiss to Noctis’ nose and grins widely. “You came back to us.”  
  
Noctis’ heart drops to his stomach right as Gladiolus pushes his knot in past the tight ring of muscle. It pops out on the next thrust, not quite swollen enough to tie, but the slick sound is enough to keep Prompto from questioning his change in expression. Ignis’ fingers tighten gently in his hair, reassuring.  
  
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Prompto says. He thumbs Noctis’ cock head, spreading the precum even though he’s still sticky with lube. “Close your eyes and let us take care of you for once…”  
  
“For once, the puppy has a good idea,” Gladiolus says. His voice is strained and his fingers are digging bruises into his hips, nails sharp enough to cut. His knot presses into him again, with some gentle grinding encouragement, and this time it’s too swollen to pop back out.  
  
The last few thrusts are shallow and sharp, his knot not leaving Gladiolus with much room to thrust. It’s enough to make Noctis come though, his cock spurting weakly into Prompto’s fist and his hole clenching tightly around the knot inside of him. It’s enough to set Gladiolus off, to have him double over Noctis’ back and bite his shoulder as he comes.  
  
Noctis can feel it pulsing inside of him, filling him up. A month ago - _ten years ago_ \- Ignis would have insisted on condoms and pulling out, or at the very least making sure Noctis and Prompto took their pills first. For the first time in a long time, Noctis feels sated and full. There’s hormones in his brain, and in Prompto’s, something about having an Alpha come in them will always sate, but this is more than that.  
  
This is Noctis being literally pinned into place with the only three people who have ever truly known and loved him for him, not for what he represented. These were his mates and they were his home, whether they were camping at a haven or renting some rickety caravan that’s seen plenty of breedings in it’s time.  
  
Noctis was home.


	2. The Plot

There was no way for the four of them to sleep comfortably on one bed. They debated moving the cots and dragging the mattresses to the floor, but there was no way to do so without irrevocably damaging them. Noctis didn’t care, not really, but Ignis ever existed as the voice of reason among them.  
  
It’s Ignis that Noctis’ curls up with that night, but only for the fact Gladiolus and Ignis were too big to share and Prompto squirmed too much for Ignis to find any rest beside him. It’s fitting, in a way. Ignis was his first, after all.  
  
Still, Ignis sleeps with his back to the wall and Noctis pressed against him as a small spoon. He can’t sleep despite his exhaustion, and the gentle sounds of his mates’ breathing does nothing to calm him. It’s not enough. He wasn’t expecting it to be.  
  
Soon, they’re going to be walking the streets of Insomnia and Noctis is going to reclaim his rightful throne.  
  
Ignis and Gladiolus and Prompto are going to fall apart without him, again, but there’s nothing he can do to prevent that from happening.  
  
Noctis’ breath shudders, wetness prickling at the corners of his eyes, and Ignis’ grip around his waist tightens instinctively, protectively. He twists in Ignis’ grasp, rolling enough to face him and he knows the signs of Ignis’ starting to stir; the wrinkle of his nose and the long arch of his spine.  
  
“Shh,” Noctis whispers in the dark. He touches Ignis’ face, rubbing soothing circles on his temple. “Sleep.”  
  
“You’re not,” Ignis accuses, his voice barely a murmur. He doesn’t open his eyes, but Noctis supposes he doesn’t need to. “What troubles you?”  
  
For a long while, Noctis isn’t sure how to answer. He just continues the slow, gentle circles to Ignis’ temple and relishes the silky feeling of his darkened hair under his fingertips. He doesn’t know how to broach the subject and he doesn’t know if he even has any right to.  
  
“Noctis?” Ignis asks, his brow furrowing even in the dark. He brings his hand from Noctis’ waist to his face, fingers tracing the lines of his lips in the dark. “Are you alright?”  
  
His vision is wet and blurry and his throat is making it hard to talk. “Fuck me?”  
  
At first, Ignis doesn’t seem to understand the invitation. His breathing is shallow and touch gentle, but Noctis leans in to kiss him and Ignis sighs heavily against his lips. He doesn’t resist when Ignis rolls him onto his back, fumbling in the dark for the second bottle of lube. They don’t need it, Noctis is still stretched and sticky from earlier, but he doesn’t object to the tentative press of Ignis’ fingers inside him.  
  
It tingles in a way that makes him want to squirm, but then the cool soothing feeling comes and Noctis melts right into it. _Numbing_ , Noctis thinks tiredly, and he can see why Prompto likes it. His asshole feels like it’s on fire after taking Gladiolus’ knot and Ignis’ gentle prep work is oddly soothing.  
  
Ignis presses their foreheads together as he pushes inside him, shaky breaths mingling as they rock together. Their lips brush, wet and opened mouth, but there’s no desperation. There is no rush to their coupling, not like there was before. Ignis frames Noctis’ smaller body with his own, hiding him from the world. He only intends to exhaust him to the point that sleep will find him.  
  
Noctis’ cock barely has anything to give as he spills between them, Ignis’ knot tying them together tight. He wraps his arms around the Alpha and buries his face in Ignis’ shoulder. He can’t stop the slow spread of tears but he hopes it’s enough to muffle his choked sobs.   
  
“My sweet prince,” Ignis says. He sounds as wrecked as Noctis feels. It’s the worst position for them to be tied in for this, but it’s better this way. Ignis has no choice but to keep him shielded and press kisses into his sweaty hair. “It’s alright, we understand, it’s okay.”  
  
It’s not okay. It’s never going to be okay.  
  
He falls asleep with Ignis still inside of him and silent tears streaming down his face.  
  


\- - - - -

  
  
“Should have known it was going to end this way,” Gladiolus says. He hesitates to ruffle Noctis’ hair, and settles for squeezing his shoulder tightly through his royal raiment. “You’re a good kid. A bit of a brat, but you always did the right thing.”  
  
“This is so unfair,” Prompto says. He holds his camera, flicking through the pictures that remain. He looks just as ready to start crying as Noctis feels. “We just got you _back_.”  
  
“We’ll be okay,” Ignis says. He squeezes Noctis’ arm, just above his elbow. The same spot he used to gently guide Noctis with. “This time, we’ll look after each other. I’ll make sure of it.”  
  
“I’ll wait for you,” Noctis promises. He doesn’t know what the Beyond entails, but he will wait for them for eternity if he has to. The longer they stay here, alive and happy and healthy, the better. Noctis will wait forever.  
  
“What about Lady Lunafreya?” Promptis asks, and it’s a punch to the gut.  
  
Noctis was never supposed to keep them. Ignis and Gladiolus and Prompto, he was supposed to let them all go a long time ago. He was never supposed to get so attached. He loves Lunafreya, the idea of her and the warmth of her, but it isn’t the same kind of love he shares with the men in front of him.  
  
Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Noctis shakes his head. “I’ll wait for you,” he says, with more conviction. He has to fight the urge to pull them all in for one last kiss yet again. They’d had their last goodbyes at camp. This shouldn’t be as hard as it is.  
  
There’s nothing left to say that won’t leave broken hearts. Noctis turns his back before he has to hear Prompto’s soft sob and see the pained look on Gladiolus’ face. Ignis will take care of them all. This time, they’ll take care of Ignis, too.  
  
Everything is going to be alright.  
  


\- - - - -

  
  
Noctis waits, Lunafreya by his side, his hand tangled in her own. She understands, she always understands him even when he doesn’t understand himself. Noctis didn't deserve her in the last life and he doesn't deserve her in this one and he loves her more for it.  
  
Dawn breaks and morning comes and they wait.


End file.
